


The In Betweens

by Tiptapricot



Category: Bill & Ted (Movies)
Genre: Domesticity, Fluff, Implied Sexual Content, Kissing, M/M, Married Life, Old Dudes in Love, Old Married Couple, Tooth-Rotting Fluff, bnt gift exchange 2020, but its v brief
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-12-25
Updated: 2020-12-25
Packaged: 2021-03-10 18:41:36
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,829
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/28321803
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Tiptapricot/pseuds/Tiptapricot
Summary: It’s the downtime, the moments between music and life, that remind Ted why he married Bill.
Relationships: Ted "Theodore" Logan/Bill S. Preston Esq.
Comments: 14
Kudos: 43





	The In Betweens

**Author's Note:**

> This is a gift fic for @bazberry-jam over on tumblr for the 2020 BnT gift exchange! Hope you enjoy this Basil :-D

Ted loves being a rock star. He loves the music he makes and the people he’s gotten to meet over the years (artists he only ever could’ve _dreamed_ of working with as a kid) and the constant buzz of creativity that surrounds him. He loves his life, loves getting to travel all over the world and perform for thousands in big stadiums where the crowd stretches up and up and leaves him breathless. He loves when the cheers fill his ears, loves feeling the sweat dripping down his back and the guitar thrumming under his fingertips.

Ted loves being a rock star, but... it has its downsides too. 

There’s always a mountain of legal crap to work through, brand deals and scheduling logistics and copyright and marketing; the kind of stuff that makes his head spin. Not to mention creative blocks and media pressure. 

Sometimes, after the especially tough weeks that end in aching hands and a tense back, Ted finds himself staring up at the ceiling and wishing he’d never picked up an instrument.

Maybe it would be easier if they never had the band, or if they'd given it up after they got married. Life definitely wouldn't be as hectic, and they could go at their own pace for once. Only... only he _knows_ it wouldn't. Ted wouldn't be _nearly_ as happy if he was anywhere else, he _loves_ performing, but that doesn't mean it's any less frustrating. It's just... so much sometimes, and it never feels like they’re getting anywhere, like they’re never where they need to be.

He could probably spiral further if left to himself, but his thoughts rarely ever go past that point. Instead Bill comes in and sits down, and he rubs over Ted’s knuckles or plays old albums and reminds him why they do it all. 

"We're gonna unite the world Ted," he says, tone hushed and eyes bright like he's saying it for the first time all over again. "We're gonna do it _together_ dude."

There's always something in the way he says it that makes Ted relax, even if he's heard the same thing a hundred times before. Bill seems to be able to make _anything_ feel important when he talks like that, like he never lets things lose their spark. It's totally like a superpower to Ted, and he loves it.

He loves everything about Bill, though, so it’s not surprising. He just makes it so easy, so effortless it’s like breathing. In fact, Ted’s pretty sure he’s falling a little more in love with Bill each day, simply because he’s _Bill._

It's the little things in a lot of ways, like when they’re sitting on the couch and one of Bill’s hands finds its way into Ted’s hair. It’ll run absentmindedly over his scalp and the fingers will twist between the locks, and Ted will lean lightly into the touch, not taking his eyes off whatever book or show he’s focused on.

They’ll stay like that for hours. Sometimes Bill braids it or tugs it into strange shapes that make both of them smile, but it’s always gentle and quiet, a wordless intimacy passed between them in the comfortable silence of the living room.

Once, when Ted’s sitting back against Bill’s chest and plucking out a vague melody on the guitar, he feels Bill’s fingers brush down over his collarbone and neck. A moment later warm lips press to the little patch of skin blow his nape, and there’s a whispered, “Make a wish dude.”

Ted hums and leans back a bit more, not really paying attention, and Bill just chuckles, a hot rush of breath down the back of Ted’s shirt collar.

“C’mon Ted, you gotta make a wish,” he says again, “I turned your necklace clasp around dude.” 

Oh.

Ted glances down at the small blue half heart pendant resting against his chest. It’s part of a matching set Bill got them for their anniversary a few years back, the kind that clicks together when you have both sides. He kind of forgot he wore it today, to be honest.

Ted leans his head back until he can see Bill’s face, resting against his shoulder.

“What do I wish for dude?” he asks.

Bill’s smile softens and he pushes some hair out of Ted’s eyes. “Whatever you want, Ted. It’s _your_ wish dude.”

“Oh yeah,” Ted breathes. He thinks for a moment, brows furrowing.

“I wish… I wish that you have a really outstanding week dude,” he says finally, turning his face into Bill's neck with a slight huff. “You totally deserve it after having to deal with all that heinous stuff with the label last weekend.”

Bill hums in acknowledgement, a hand coming up to gently pet Ted's head before he twists to press a kiss to it.

“Thanks dude," he mutters, "that’s really sweet of you.”

“‘Course Bill."

Ted doesn’t go back to the song right away.

He stays sitting with Bill, warm and comfortable, as music filters into the garage from somewhere else in the house. 

It sounds like Iron Maiden from what Ted can hear, one of the earlier albums of theirs he remembers getting. Him and Bill showed the kids their old collection recently, CDs and records from when they were in high school that they’ve replaced over the years, and the player in the living room's been seeing almost nonstop use since.

Ted doesn't mind it, actually. He thinks it's kind of nice.

Maybe he’ll talk to Bill about setting something up later, some kind of speaker system or playlist so that they can always have something playing. He'd like that, he thinks; waking up to music and doing work to music and going to sleep to music, but he’s in no rush. There’s never a need to rush with Bill.

The rest of their life... well, that’s a different story.

They've got deadlines to meet, parent teacher conferences to attend, performances to prepare for, collaborations to work out; the kind of things that get in the way of their free time most egregiously. 

Ted _hates_ that he doesn’t get to see Bill as often as he wants to on busy weeks, whether because one or both of them is trying to finish something, or because their schedules just don't line up. It's bogus. Sometimes they don’t get to eat breakfast together, or laze around in bed unless it’s for actual sleep, or, if it’s really bad, don’t even get to talk beyond a few, stilted, exchanges here and there.

As a result, or maybe out of necessity, Ted's picked up the habit of kissing Bill whenever he gets the chance.

Quick ones pressed to his forehead or cheek when they pass each other on more hectic days, and long, slow, ones breathed warm and sweet into the crook of his neck and ghosted along his fingertips and palms when they’re laying in bed at night.

Bill especially seems to like that second kind, judging by how he always flushes bright red and turns into a giggling mess. 

Ted loves seeing him happy like that. It’s how things should be, like a law of the universe or something. Ketchup and fries, drums and guitar, Bill and smiling; it's just right. If it were up to Ted, Bill would be able to be like that all the time. But... it's not. 

It’s not, because Ted can’t even count how often Bill comes home late on weekdays, shoulders sagging with exhaustion and some new stress line etched into his forehead. It always makes his heart sink.

Bill deals with more of the company side of stuff than Ted does, mostly because he’s usually busy with something else regarding the song or their family and can’t make the trip to the building with him, but he wishes he could. The guys they’re signed with can be _most_ inconsiderate sometimes, and he knows Bill could use the support.

He tries to make up for it as best he can, though. When Bill comes home there’s always a pot of his favorite tea ready and hot, and a separate serving of dinner set aside on the counter. Ted always stays up for him, too, even if he does doze off sometimes, and Bill will nudge him awake when he does before joining him on the couch.

They'll sit, and Bill will eat, and sometimes he'll tell Ted about his day. Mostly he doesn’t, but sometimes. It’s usually left to Ted to fill the space with mindless stuff; what Billie and Thea were up to that day, or something about a new instrument he's looking into, or whatever else he can think of.

When Bill's done they'll clean up and put things away, and then go down the hall and get ready for bed. Bill will lay out on their comforter sometimes, and Ted will rub his back for a few minutes, carefully working out the knots of muscle along the sides of his spine and shoulders. They end those nights curled up close, and Ted makes sure Bill gets to sleep in as long as he wants the next day.

He deserves it.

If the kids are with them, that usually means Ted has to get up early to take them out somewhere, just in case they decide to blast an album or destroy the kitchen by taking breakfast into their own hands again. 

He'll take them to the mall or park, and maybe pick up groceries on the way home, and by the time they get back Bill’s usually up, either eating at the table or messing around in the studio. The kids always rush over as quick as they can to tell him all about what they got to do that day, babbling a mile a minute and showing off any trinkets they got.

That’s when Ted knows things are going to be ok, usually, because Bill’s face always melts into this big, bright, smile as he listens to them talk. He’ll catch Ted’s eye over their shoulders sometimes and smile a little wider, but it's never for more than a moment, Bill always going right back to paying rapt attention to whatever Billie and Thea are talking about.

That's the thing about Bill though. He's an outstanding husband and an excellent friend, he’s Ted’s soulmate and the one who he’s going to unite the universe with someday, but he’s also a good _dad._ He always knows just what to say to cheer Thea up when she’s struggling with school, and just the right way to hug Billie when they’re sad or upset. 

He’s kind and caring and _loving_ and… and seeing Bill do everything _right,_ in the ways that the two of them never got to experience themselves... it's definitely one of those things that reminds Ted why he fell in love.

Maybe that’s also why movie nights are so special to him. It's another time when he gets to see all his favorite people, his _family,_ who he's grown with and changed with and loved with, all in one place and _happy._

Billie and Thea pick out the movies (usually something so new or so obscure Ted’s never heard of it), Liz and Jo bring snacks and occasionally their girlfriends, and, when their schedules line up, Missy drops by with different games and activities and a bottle of something strong and expensive for the adults.

Everyone squeezes into the living room, settling on the couch or floor or on piles of blankets pulled down from closet shelves, and they spend the night laughing and chatting and trying to see how many cheesy puffs Jo can toss into her mouth without missing.

Even though the princesses live only a few blocks away, Ted always feels like they haven't seen each other in ages when they visit. They're busy themselves, and there's always a mountain of stories and gossip for him to catch up on.

Conversations are still easy even with the distance, which is a relief. It's easy to forget sometimes, but the princesses are probably the two people Ted is closest to after Bill. Jo can still make him laugh harder than almost anyone, and Liz has always been there if he needs to talk. They get each other like that, and it's nice.

When things start to wind down after the movie, Missy gets out whatever games she brought and Ted helps pass out drinks, and they all break off into groups to play a bit before people head home.

It’s a nice, all things considered; a perfect way to spend Saturday nights.

Afterwards, when everybody’s said their goodbyes and the kids are in bed, Ted helps Bill clean up the living room. They put on music and talk softly while cleaning dishes and fluffing pillows, and sometimes Bill will catch Ted by the hip and tug him close, and they’ll sway gently to the radio as they trade whispers and kisses.

Every once in a while things get more heated than they expect, and on those nights they’ll stumble down the hall, giggling into each other’s mouths as Ted’s knuckles wrinkle the back of Bill’s shirt and push over the warm bumps of his spine. They’ll settle into bed, Bill crawling into Ted’s lap, and he’ll lean in and kiss Ted's mouth sweet and slow, carefully working along his cheek and jaw, rough fingers sliding under the edge of his shirt to brush along his belly button and down to the top of his happy trail. 

They’ll kiss for a bit longer, but most nights that’s as far as it goes. Bill’s hands will slow and smooth out to rest on Ted’s hips, and he’ll pull back with a light chuckle.

“I’m actually kinda tired tonight dude,” he’ll say, and Ted will smile and knock his nose against Bill’s cheek in understanding, and they’ll both laugh, because _jeez,_ they really _are_ getting old now, huh? 

They’ll pull apart and go to brush their teeth, nudging and prodding each other every few minutes and trying not to spit toothpaste all over the sink when they laugh, and when that’s done the blankets are inviting and cozy, and Ted will fall asleep to strong arms and the fuzzy sound of whatever record Bill picked out to play that night.

If they have the time, they like to spend the mornings after lazing around in bed, a tangle of limbs under the sheets, drifting in and out of sleep and enjoying the company of each other’s embrace.

Ted’s usually the first to wake up, and he’ll watch the steady rise and fall of Bill’s chest when he does, taking in the messy tangle of bed head spilling down around his ears and the soft shape of his lips.

He’s still not sure how it happened, in all honesty; how he was lucky enough to end up with someone as handsome and talented and utterly bodacious as Bill.

Sure, he’s got more wrinkles now than when they were teens, softer skin that crinkles at the edges of his eyes and mouth, and that little scar on his pinkie where he burned himself making dinner when the kids were five, but none of that changes anything. Bill will always be beautiful to Ted, the most beautiful man in the world. He thought that when they were in their twenties, and he thinks that now. Arguably _more_ so, actually, because no one can be more handsome to Ted than present day Bill, even himself.

Ted smiles at that thought, tracing his fingers up Bill’s arm to his cheek, his palm sliding over fresh stubble to settle below his ear.

“My Bill,” he murmurs, and gets a tired huff of amusement in return.

Bill shifts slightly onto his side, cracking an eye open to look at him. He looks especially gorgeous right then, Ted thinks, sprawled out on the blankets, lazy and relaxed and _breathtaking._ He just stares at him for a bit, in awe.

“Your morning breath is kinda bogus dude,” Bill says after a moment, voice rough with sleep. 

Ted blinks, mouth slowly slipping into a grin, and then he _laughs._

“No _way_ dude!” he says, lightly shoving Bill in the shoulder. “I was trying to be totally romantic and stuff!”

Bill snorts, but his face is soft and genuine. “It _was_ totally romantic, dude.”

“Yeah?”

“Ted, my most excellent husband,” Bill brings up a hand to cup his cheek, _“everything_ you say is totally romantic.”

Ted smiles and leans in, stifling another laugh into the kiss as he hums happily against Bill’s lips.

“I love you dude,” he whispers when they part, foreheads touching.

“Right back atcha Ted.”

Ted loves being a rock star. He loves his fans and he loves the open road and he loves crappy motels with busted open signs. Ted loves being a rock star more than anything on Earth, Bill just happens to be a whole galaxy.

**Author's Note:**

> Thanks for reading! I’m also on tumblr under the same username, so come vibe if you want, and if not have a most excellent day my dudes!


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